


Act One: Whalesong

by QueerCosette



Series: A Miraculous Musical [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Knows, Aro-Ace Alix Kubdel, Arson, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Bisexual Female Character, Chloé Bourgeois Redemption, Demisexual Luka Couffaine, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gabriel Agreste is a literal sack of shit, Heathers: The Musical References, Identity Reveal, Jealous Adrien Agreste, Lesbian Chloé Bourgeois, Lila Rossi can fuck right off, Luka is an amazing friend, Misunderstandings, Murder, Musical References, Musicals, Mutual Pining, New Miraculous Holders, Pining, Plagg does the loaf thing that cats do, Singing, Slow Burn, i'm not kidding the burn will be so slow, spontaneous singing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-05-19 02:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19348006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerCosette/pseuds/QueerCosette
Summary: Marinette's family receives tragic news, and suddenly her cousin becomes her roommate. With her only possessions being a small suitcase of clothes and a bizarre hair-clip, anyone connected to María Sugrue-Dupain begins to become infected with some sort of singing virus - in which they have no choice but to sing about their problems. Ms Bustier, ever resourceful, takes the opportunity to direct the class in a production of the musical 'Heathers', and there is drama on-stage and off it.But why does the singing virus exist at all? Why is Gabriel Agreste suddenly so interested in Adrien's schoolmates? And seriously, is Nathalie OK? The Gorilla wants to know if he should call someone. Should he call someone?





	1. I'm Not That Girl

**Author's Note:**

> What the hell? I'm gonna post it. I posted it.
> 
> As you might know if you follow my Tumblr, this started as a fun idea and turned into something grimmer than I intended. What can I say? Darkfic is my speciality.
> 
> I hope you enjoy. Please leave kudos and comments if you liked it or have any suggestions!!

Operation ‘Make Marinette Know She’s Loved’ goes into operation the second Adrien walks through the doors into the courtyard – or at least, it’s supposed to. His plan was to hurry over and immediately give Marinette the biggest, tightest hug ever and ask her how she is.

That plan goes to shit less than a minute after he sees her standing by the stairs with Alya and Nino. Alya and Nino are both nodding seriously as she explains something to them, and Adrien’s heart aches when he notices how exhausted she looks. Marinette clearly hasn’t slept much since he last saw her, and it's clearly not because a Ladybug patrol ran late. _What asshole did this to her?_ he wonders angrily. _Never mind, find that out later. Right now, **hugs.**_

He makes eye-contact with Nino, whose eyes widen very quickly, and the DJ hurriedly jabs Alya with his left elbow and Marinette with his right, muttering something to them. Adrien thinks he sees his name being mouthed, but he’s focussing on Marinette, who has noticed him now as he hurries towards her, and she looks –

She looks like a frightened rabbit.

He ignores the uneasy feeling bubbling up in his chest at the sight of her expression, and walks faster. Marinette is frozen by the time he reaches her – he’s pretty sure he could have pushed her over, and nothing about her position would change – she’d just topple like a statue. He doesn't push her – he doesn’t think he could ever push her in any way _(unless it was down onto a bed,_ the dirtier part of his mind supplies, and he shakes the thought quickly from his head. _Absolutely not. She’s hurting right now, and I’m her friend first and foremost.)_

Marinette doesn’t move as he takes her hand in greeting. She just stares at him. His heart squeezes, and his body fills with terrified heat at her lack of response. She stays stock-still as he pulls her into a hug, which only increases the unease in his stomach. Marinette always hugs him back. She hugs him back when she’s Ladybug and he’s Chat Noir, with a sweet and loving laugh. She hugs back him when she’s Ladybug and he’s Adrien, with a blushing sigh of relief that he’s unharmed. She hugs him back as Marinette when he’s Chat Noir, with a warm smile and some good advice to go. And she always hugs him back when she’s Marinette and he’s Adrien, with an expression of delight and one foot popped as she stands on tiptoe to throw her arms around his shoulders.

But right now she’s as cold and still as a block of ice. He worriedly pulls away, keeping his hands on her shoulders, and looks her in the eyes.

“How are you, Marinette?” he asks.

Marinette stares at him. She looks like she’s about to cry.

“Marinette?” he repeats, the unease bubbling up inside him like vomit.

Marinette lets out something that might be a whimper and might be a sob – and then she flees.

Just runs off.

Adrien didn’t think his heart could break any more on her behalf, and yet it does. He remembers the words of the song she was singing yesterday – ‘Cute boys with short haircuts’. Maybe she’s so upset she can’t even bear to look at anyone who has a similar haircut to her mystery boy. The thought that Marinette can’t bear to look at him makes his stomach twist unpleasantly.

“Is Marinette OK?” he asks Nino and Alya, who exchange an uneasy look before Alya answers.

“She… had a bit of a heartbreak yesterday,” she says carefully. “She had a crush on… this boy… and apparently she saw him with… another girl… last night.” Alya’s surveying him with sharp eyes, as if trying to catch him fidgeting, or something. He wouldn’t doubt her. Girl’s the most voracious reporter he’s ever met. Although he can’t think what he might have done to merit her squint being trained on him.

“She sees… this dude… nearly every day,” Nino continues, looking both extremely turtle-ish and exceedingly uncomfortable. Ready to retreat into his shell. “She’s not dealing with it too well right now. Don’t blame her, to be honest,” he adds mildly. “If I saw Alya locking lips with Kag-OW!” Alya’s poked him in the soft area between his ribs and his hip, and he hurries to cover up whatever he nearly spilled. Adrien knows what it looks like when Nino panics, and it’s pretty obvious that that’s what he’s doing right now. “I mean, if I saw Alya locking lips with some dude or dudette who I knew she’d had feelings for, I’d be pretty out of it too, dude.”

The uneasy feeling tightens in Adrien’s stomach, and he’s about to ask them more about Marinette’s heartbreak boy (for entirely innocent reasons and definitely _not_ because he’s considering paying the dude a visit as Chat Noir) when the bell rings and Alya tugs Nino up the stairs with a nervous laugh. “Sorry, Adrien, gotta go!”

“But… we’re in the same… class…” Adrien says confusedly. He hurries up the stairs, glancing around to see if Marinette’s returned from wherever she ran off to, but she’s nowhere in sight. He feels horribly lost, like he’s missed something important.

He turns to follow his oddly squirrelly friends, but as he starts up the steps, he feels something odd wash over him – almost like his transformation feels, but slightly different – cooler, and he doesn’t have cat ears afterwards. It was something Miraculous, almost certainly, but he doesn’t hear the typical screams of an Akuma attack beginning, and he’s never felt something like that at the beginning of an attack either, so he rules it out. He knows that most sci-fi fantasy movies are based on absolutely no fact, but it does almost feel like a disturbance in the Force of some kind.

Like something, somewhere, has just gone horribly wrong.

* * *

 Marinette couldn’t help it. She panicked, OK? And she ran away from Adrien, and now he’ll know there’s definitely something wrong, and he’ll work out that she’s in love with him and saw him with Kagami and he’ll be disgusted at her feelings and that she was spying on him (even though it was an accident) and even their friendship will be ruined and he’ll hate her forever and she’ll die alone with a hamster eating her face –

 _Stop fucking spiralling,_ a voice supplies in her head as she slams the door of the locker room, and she breathes heavily, trying to get her heartbeat back under control. The Voice pops up from time to time when she’s panicking, and it usually sounds like either Tikki (it’s definitely not Tikki, who’s still napping off their early-morning solo patrol and doesn't like to swear) or her cousin María. María is one of the most logical people Marinette knows; she doesn’t waste time worrying about things that might not happen, and the thought of her no-nonsense cousin is calming to Marinette. _What would María do?_ she wonders. _Probably talk me down and then squeal about hot girls wielding swords._ And then Marinette is forced to change her thought direction because there is a sword-wielding girl she definitely does not want to think about right now.

 _Focus, Mari,_ she reminds herself as the warning bell rings. _You’re gonna be OK. You can get through this._ She can feel another panic attack coming on, and knows that she absolutely can’t have it here. There’s only one thing that can calm her at this point –

Something rushes over her at that moment; a wave of worrying coldness that she can’t place the source of. It doesn’t feel like an Akuma – she’d hear Hawkmoth’s voice if she was being hit with one, and she’d doubtless feel empty and brainwashed if she’d been attacked by someone else – and she still feels empty and lonely, so it’s not that.

As she was saying (thinking?), there’s only one thing that can calm her at this point: singing something that gets her feelings out. She can’t sing here though – or wait. Can she? There’s no law or rule against it. And even if there is, she finds herself not caring.

She reaches for her phone to pull up a soundtrack, but to her surprise, a soft, tinkling piano riff is already playing somewhere. In the room? Or somewhere else? Marinette doesn’t know, but she knows the words, and as the riff finishes playing for a second time, she starts to sing.

“Hands touch, eyes meet, sudden silence – sudden heat. Hearts leap in a giddy whirl… he could be that boy, but I’m not that girl.”

Her head suddenly fills with a vision of Adrien’s soft, sweet smile as he greeted her that morning, holding her hand and pulling her into a warm hug. Is there the slightest possibility that it was more than a greeting between friends? _Perhaps_ , the hopeful part of her brain supplies, but she hurriedly shakes the thought out of her head as she starts the second verse.

“Don’t dream too far – don’t lose sight of who you are. Don’t remember that rush of joy… he could be that boy, but I’m not that girl!”

She wanders over to the window and gazes out, and in spite of the reminder she’s just given herself, she can’t help but imagine a world where Adrien was kissing her instead of Kagami, with his hands in her hair, just holding her close. He pulls away and says, “I love you, Marinette,” and Marinette finds herself leaning towards Dream-Adrien for another wonderful kiss, only blinking out of her fantasy when her head bonks the frosted glass. The tune changes, but Marinette sings along effortlessly.

“Every so often we long to steal to the land of what might have been…” Dream-Adrien fades from view, and she’s only left with the reflection of her own pallid, pained face. “But that doesn’t stop the ache we feel when reality sets back in…”

Reality being, Adrien is with Kagami. He’s not interested in Marinette. He never will be. There’s nothing she can do about it, except keep singing along as the sing goes back to the original melody.

“Blithe smile, lithe limb,” she pictures Kagami in her head, her heart stinging at the smugness on her imaginary rival’s face. “She who’s winsome, she wins him.” Kagami doesn’t mess around when it comes to feelings – she’s upfront about everything. No wonder she caught Adrien’s interest. “Neat hair with a gentle curl –” Kagami is far more grown-up-looking than Marinette, with her smart clothes and practical haircut. Marinette wonders sometimes if it’s her childish looks that have kept Adrien from seeing her as more than a friend, and kept him viewing her as maybe a little-sister-figure. “That’s the girl he chose, and heaven knows I’m not that girl.”

She wishes things were different. She wishes Adrien would rush into the room right this second and hug her tight and tell her that he’s only ever loved her, but she knows wishing is useless. The piano riff moves up an octave as the final verse begins, and she heaves a deep sigh. “Don’t wish. Don’t start. Wishing only wounds the heart. I wasn’t born for the rose and pearl –” The music swells and then pauses, and she chokes back a tiny sob. “There’s a girl I know… He l-loves her so…” she stutters on ‘loves’, because it’s painful enough to think about, let alone admit. “…I’m not… that…” another shaky breath before she sings the final low note, “…girl.”

The second warning bell rings, and Marinette hurriedly gathers her bag and dashes to class, staring at the floor as she enters and not noticing Adrien trying to get her attention as she passes his desk. Marinette sits down behind him, now staring at her lap, and feels Alya squeeze her hand. She glances up as Ms Bustier enters, and for a second makes eye-contact with Adrien, who is staring right at her with a pained expression on his face. _Maybe it means something,_ the hopeful part of Marinette’s brain says, but she quashes the thought. _He’s not concerned over me. I’m not that girl._

* * *

Hawkmoth watches through the eyes of his Akuma as the fire-fighters desperately try to douse the burning Spanish villa. The Akuma is hiding, concealed in an alley so no-one walks into him, and it’s a piece of genius work if he says so himself. A frustrated street performer, Hawkmoth gave him the power to create, juggle, swallow, and do whatever he wants to with fire. And he’s been working on changing an Akuma’s look while they’re out on the battlefield, so as soon as the man has finished giving an amazing two-hour show, Hawkmoth easily instructs him into an alley where he changes the brightly coloured clothes to an entirely invisible jumpsuit and mask. Hawkmoth had held up his end of the bargain, now it was the Akuma’s turn.

You see, Gabriel Agreste had most certainly not been at a conference in New York for the past two weeks. No, he’d been on a world tour searching for something briefly mentioned in the Grimmoire. He still couldn’t make head or tail of most of the entries in the ancient book, but this one had no riddles to it at all, and it seemed it could be exactly what he was looking for: a long-lost, super-powerful Miraculous. The lore hinted that the only holder had fallen overboard and drowned, her hairpin lost to the oceans with her. Gabriel had been fascinated by the story, which was something of a traditional myth in the area of China she’d come from, and recently a news article on whale biology had caught his interest, looking like there might be a link: an eighty-foot-long bull sperm whale had beached on the Spanish coast a few months ago, and the marine biologists who had dissected it (a married couple from Asturias) had made a – you might say _miraculous_ – discovery: the whale was over one thousand years old. Unheard of in mammals, even in cetaceans – previously, the oldest whale clocked in at 221 years. An even odder discovery, as the couple examined its massive skull (20.6 feet long!) was imbedded in one of its teeth: an S-shaped piece of metal, about two inches long, with five indigo gems along the length of it. Was this part of the mystery as to why the whale had lived so long?

It was a mystery to the couple, but not to Gabriel. The picture of the bejewelled metal perfectly matched the drawing of the lost Miraculous in the Grimmoire. And judging from the drawings of the heroine who had worn it, the power it granted was exactly what Gabriel needed: echolocation, unparalleled in its accuracy. With that, he would find Ladybug and Chat Noir’s identities in no time, and his wish would be granted.

There was a slight problem though. His precise instructions to the Akuma were “Get the tooth. Make sure they can’t get it back.”

The Akuma’s response was to set the Marine Biologists’ house ablaze. The tooth wouldn’t burn, and neither would the Miraculous, so it would be fairly easy to retrieve. Just one problem:

The fire department was right across the street.

As Gabriel watched through the eyes of his Akuma (whom he had christened ‘Firebringer’), the fire-fighters began slowing down in their dowsing of the house. The roof was crumbling in, and soon there would be nothing left. And without Ladybug’s Miracle Cure, there would be no saving it.

It was another hour before the last flames were out, and Gabriel was about to urge Firebringer forward to search for the tooth, policemen began swarming around the house, setting up caution tape and speaking to the fire-fighters in rapid Spanish. Gabriel sighed in annoyance, and prepared to instruct Firebringer to leave and hide somewhere else so he could de-Akumatize him. Through Firebringer’s ears, he caught a full sentence of the exhausted-looking fire-chief saying something to the chief of police, but didn't understand a word.

“Mojamos toda la casa, pero no había manera de que entráramos, ¡y todavía había dos personas allí!”

The police chief put an arm around the fire-chief, and Firebringer left the scene.

Back in his hotel room that night, Gabriel turned on the local news in frustration, flipping through the settings until it had French subtitles. A picture of the house engulfed in flames showed behind the newsreader, who had a pained look on her face.

“And finally, we bring news of a terribly tragedy. An uncontrollable fire of unknown cause started today in a house in uptown Asturias. The house burned to the ground, killing both occupants: highly respected marine biologists Miguel and Vivienne Sugrue-Dupain. They have left behind a distraught community, a large amount of unfinished research, and most tragically, their sixteen-year-old daughter María.”

Gabriel turns the television off. He officially has blood on his hands, and it can’t be undone. The girl is barely a year older than Adrien. And the scariest part is, he can barely think about that, already trying to work on a plan to get ahold of the Miraculous imbedded in that whale tooth.

_For Emilie, it’s worth it._


	2. I Could Hear The Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien worries about Marinette. Marinette and Luka have a deep conversation about what falling in love is like. The Dupain-Chengs receive some horrible news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song used in this chapter is 'I Can Hear The Bells' from Hairspray, and it is a very Marinette song. I... did change the words slightly in some places though...
> 
> Enjoy!

Adrien worries about Marinette all day. She’s silent behind him, gives Alya one-word answers when the journalist tries to talk to her, and walks past him like a zombie not even hearing his attempt at an invitation to go for lunch together. At the end of the day he wants to ask her if she’ll have coffee with him and talk about what’s troubling her (and hopefully worm the guy’s name out of her so the guy can get what’s coming to him), but Alya, Rose, Juleka, Mylène and Alix bundle her out the door, talking over each other about plans and sleepovers and distractions and moving on, so he assumes they’ve got it covered. It doesn’t explain the dirty look Alix gives him on the way out, though.

 

* * *

 

He patrols the city that night, but Ladybug – _Marinette_ , he remembers – doesn’t show up to join him. He tries the bug-phone – no signal. Poor Maribug must be so upset that she can’t even face patrolling with him. Or maybe she just can’t get away from the sleepover. There’s nothing going on tonight anyway – still no Akumas, no Hawktivity whatsoever. But it doesn’t ease the twist in his stomach.

 

* * *

 

It’s worse than he thought. Marinette doesn’t come to school the next day. Ms Bustier marks her as late at first, but first period comes and goes and still no sign of Marinette. It’s nearly lunchtime when Mr Damocles comes in, with a sombre expression on his face, and asks Ms Bustier to step outside for a second. The entire class stops and stares at the door in a mixture of curiosity and concern, and no one bothers to pretend to keep working when Ms Bustier re-enters. She looks like she’s trying to hold herself together, but she smiles at the class as though nothing is wrong.

“Everyone, I have some news – both sad and exciting.”

Everyone sits up straight and watches her expectantly, but none more so than Adrien. Is she going to explain where Marinette is?

Ms Bustier heaves a sigh. “The sad news is that Marinette will be out of school for two weeks due to a family bereavement.”

Adrien knows he’s not the only one terrified at this news. God, all of Marinette’s family that he’s met are among the kindest souls on Earth. To think that one of them might be gone…

Ms Bustier continues, “The exciting news is that when she returns, we will also be welcoming a new student to our classroom.” Everyone looks curious at this news, and Ms Bustier smiles, although it looks strained. “And on that note, I think we should take an early lunch break.”

As the students file out of the classroom, Adrien falls into step with Alya. “Alya,” he whispers, “have you heard anything from Marinette?”

Alya shakes her head. All the wariness she’d directed at him yesterday is gone, replaced by worry. “All I know is that we were going to have a sleepover at Juleka’s, but her mom turned up at half-ten and said something happened and she needed Marinette to come home. And she looked really, really freaked. I haven’t heard anything from Marinette since.”

Adrien walks by the bakery, but the sign on the door gives him no more information than he already has. _Closed until September 23 rd due to family bereavement._

 _Marinette’s family doesn’t deserve anything bad to happen to them,_ he thinks miserably. _This is the most unfair event in the history of unfair events._

 

* * *

 

Marinette’s not sure how she makes it through the day, but somehow she does. She forces herself to ignore Adrien trying to get her attention at lunch and again at hometime, hyperfocussing on her work for once instead of daydreaming. She’s about to walk home and maybe spend the night crying in her room again when she’s grabbed by Alya and Juleka and steered out the door with Mylène, Rose and Alix behind them. They’re all talking over each other about having a sleepover at Juleka’s, and Marinette manages a smile when they tell her she can pick what they do.

They reach Juleka’s and Marinette fires off a quick text to her mom before they get started on the first activity for the night: face masks. When the masks are applied, Juleka puts some Jagged Stone on and they begin the second activity: painting each others’ nails. Marinette’s fingernails are soon pale pink with little black and white flowers (Rose is particularly good at nail decals) and she thinks she might actually be able to start moving on soon. Her face and nails are both dry and she heads to the bathroom to remove the mask.

With the mask off, she already looks less zombie-ish.

 _Maybe moving on won’t be as hard as I thought._ And with newfound hopefulness, Marinette leaves the bathroom – and promptly collides with Luka.

“Hey Mari,” Luka smiles, and he’s so warm and his voice is so friendly that Marinette can’t help but beam back.

“Hey, Luka. How are you?”

Luka shrugs, an easy smile gracing his face. “Ah, you know, could complain, can’t be bothered.” She chuckles, and he fixes her with a curious aquamarine stare. “How are you?”

“I’m…” she pauses. She’s automatically going to tell him she’s fine, like she’s been telling everyone all day, but something stops her. This is Luka. He won’t judge her, or pity her, or tell her to grow up. She knows he’ll listen attentively and then talk her through her thoughts when she gets stuck. There’s no need to hide her feelings.

“I’ve been better.”

Luka frowns. “You wanna talk about it? We can go in my room if you… don’t want anyone else to hear it.”

Marinette considers it, and nods. Luka’s bedroom is small and cluttered, and there’s a new guitar propped on a stand in the centre of the room. She approaches it with an awed expression – the design is truly spectacular; the body is teardrop-shaped and indigo, with a bright green serpent looping between a tiny white moon, yellow stars, and around the cream pickguard. The edges are aqua blue, with wave crests curling over the purple, and amongst the waves on the sides are more tiny green snakes. The head is also purple, and there’s a tiny green eye painted above a bright orange anglerfish.

“Like her?” Luka asks with a grin. “She’s vintage.”

“She’s beautiful,” Marinette gasps. “Can I hold her?”

“Sure.” Marinette picks the guitar up, turning it over to see the back, which is painted with more waves and an enormous golden sun that smiles up at her. Luka leans against the wall, still smiling. “My mom painted her. She doesn’t have the best sound, but when I play her, it’s like I can feel my family right there with me.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Marinette says softly. Luka nods.

“It is. But we can gush over guitar designs later. I want you to tell me what’s troubling you.”

And so Marinette tells him. How she’d been finally ready to ask Adrien to hang out alone with her, and had entered the room to find him kissing Kagami. How she’d fled, feeling her heart crack into a million pieces, and cried for hours on her balcony. How Adrien had been so concerned today, almost as if he was trying to give her a consolation prize of warm Adrien HugsTM. How she felt she’d wasted two years of her life loving someone who will never notice her. And how she hates herself for still loving him.

“But that’s love, I guess,” she concludes sadly. “It hurts.”

Luka frowns. “That doesn’t sound so great. Everyone makes out romantic love to be this amazing feeling that sends you soaring into the sky in a rainbow bathtub with silver wings. That all sounds like an Alanis Morissette song.”

Marinette shakes her head. “Loving him… was wonderful,” she says thoughtfully. “It wasn’t quite flying around in a magical bathtub, but it was… warm. It made me happy. But loving someone in that way, and for so long…” she sighs, not quite sure where this philosophical outpouring is coming from, but continues anyway, “…it takes a lot out of you. It eventually exhausts you. And when the good stuff is amazing, the bad stuff… is devastating.”

Luka has an indescribable expression on his face, and she wonders if she’s said something to upset him, but what he says is miles away from what she’s expecting. “How did you know?”

“How did I know what?”

“That you were in love with him,” Luka says. He’s frowning; not in an angry or sad way, but curiously. “How do you know you’re in love with someone?”

Marinette thinks hard. “I feel lighter when I’m around him. I’m warm inside when he smiles. I love being the cause of that smile – I’d do anything to make him smile, even back off and leave him alone forever if that’s what it took to make him happy. I hurt when he hurts, and I’m devastated when he’s miserable. And I want to kiss him,” she adds as an afterthought. “A lot.”

Luka’s still frowning curiously. “What was the moment you fell for him like?”

Marinette’s not sure how to answer, but then she hears five tiny bell chimes somewhere in the room, and she immediately feels at ease, and knows what to do, just like in the locker room. “I could hear the bells…” she sings softly.

Luka looks utterly bemused, staring around the room for the source of the music. “The bells?”

Marinette nods. “Well, don’t you hear them chime?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know where they’re coming from,” Luka chuckles. Marinette impulsively grabs his hand and places it over her heart.

“Can’t you feel my heartbeat keeping perfect time?” she sings, giggling when he yanks his hand away, blushing madly. “And all because he…” she trails off, and Luka looks at her expectantly. The music pauses with her, before going into a steady sixties drumbeat, and Marinette grins as she starts to sing. In spite of the painful subject, she’s excited. She loves this song. “…touched me, he looked at me and stared, yes, he bumped me; my heart was unprepared when he tapped me and knocked me off my feet – one little touch and my life’s complete! ‘Cause when he nudged me, he put me in a fix, yes, he hit me just like a ton of bricks, and my heart burst – now I know what life’s about! One little touch and love knocked me out and –”

The door opens and Marinette’s friends poke their heads into the room, looking confused, but she can’t stop now. “I could hear the bells, my head was spinning! I could hear the bells, something was beginning! Chloé always said that a girl who looks like me can’t win his love – well, just wait and see, ‘cause I could hear the bells – just hear them chiming! I could hear the bells, my temperature was climbing! You can’t contain your joy when you’ve finally found the boy you’ve been missing – listen! I can hear the bells!”

Alya is confused, but the song is so catchy, and Marinette is in her element, and Luka looks amused, and she can’t help herself when she starts singing a soft backing vocal. Four more voices join her, and she realises that Juleka, Alix, Rose and Mylène have been seized by the same urge. With Alix and Juleka’s soulful altos, Mylène and Rose’s sweet sopranos, and her own warm mezzo, the resulting harmony – one they all seem to impulsively know – is lovely. The song moves up a key, and they all flawlessly move with it. “Round one,” they all sing together, and then Marinette takes over.

“He’d ask me on a date and then –”

“Round two!”

“I’d primp but not be late because –”

“Round three!”

“Is when we kiss inside his car!” Marinette giggles. “Won’t go all the way, but we’d pretty far!”

“Round four!” Luka joins in too, adding a bass to the harmony.

“He’d ask me for my hand, and then –”

“Round five!”

“We’d book the wedding band, so by –”

“Round six!”

“Lila, much to your surprise, it would be me who would claim the prize!” Marinette has a determined grin as she sings the words, and the girls are so relieved to see her herself again that they completely ignore the dig at Lila. “I can hear the bells,” they sing together.

“My ears are ringing!”

“I can hear the bells!”

“The bridesmaids are singing!” Marinette sighs, almost living the fantasy in real time. Juleka, Mylène and Rose all curtsey, pretending to be the bridesmaids she’s singing about. “Everybody thinks that a guy whose such a gem won’t look my way, well the laugh’s on them!” (“Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” Alya thinks, remembering Adrien’s unusual concern over her friend today) “‘Cause I can hear the bells – my father will smile!” Luka hurries to take Marinette’s arm.

“I can hear the bells,” the ‘bridesmaids’ chorus as Luka begins to walk Marinette down the length of the narrow bedroom, goofy grin in place, and Alya hurries to stand at the end like a waiting groom.

“As he walks me down the aisle! My mother starts to cry –” Alix makes a show of pretending to sob, and fakes blowing her nose noisily into a tissue. Marinette’s laughing so hard she can barely sing the next line. “But I can’t see, ‘cause Adrien and I are French Kissing!”

Alya leaps forward and plants a sloppy kiss on Marinette’s cheek, making the girl laugh so hard she nearly cries. “Listen! I can hear the bells!” Marinette manages to splutter, and then the song changes key again and they all twirl around the room, giggling and spinning under each others arms as the final chorus starts.

“I can hear the bells!”

“My head is reeling!”

“I can hear the bells!”

“I can’t stop the pealing! Everybody warns that he won’t like what he’ll see, but I know that he’ll look inside of me, yeah!”

“I can hear the bells!”

“Today’s just the start, ‘cause –”

“I can hear the bells!”

“And ‘til death do us part!” Marinette falls back on the bed with a sigh, and her friends watch her carefully, quietly singing ‘ooh’s as her voice grows softer and more vulnerable. “And even when we die, we’ll look down from up above, remembering the night that we two fell in love…”

“Two fell in love!” her friends echo, before switching to ‘aah’s.

“We both will shed a tear, and he’ll whisper as we’re reminiscing, ‘Listen! I can hear the bells!’” Marinette sings. The music slows down, the drumbeat disappearing entirely.

“She can hear the bells…” her friends echo.

“I can hear the bells,” Marinette repeats, and once again her friends echo her. As she sings her final line, her face grows sad as she remembers what led to the impromptu sing-a-long. “I… could hear… the bells.”

Her friends gaze at her, seemingly unsure of how to respond, and eventually Marinette sits up. “Well, there you have it,” she smiles. “That was what falling for Adrien felt like.”

“That sounds awful,” Alix teases. “I’m so glad I don’t have to put up with that shit.” Rose whacks her with a pillow.

“Oh, shush,” she sighs happily. “That all sounds adorable!”

Alix snatches the pillow and aims for Rose, who ducks. The pillow hits Alya, who immediately grabs another pillow, and the game is on. Soon they’re grabbing pillows from Juleka’s room and the sofa in the living room, and ducking behind furniture, spy-rolling to try and get to safe places without being hit. Eventually Alya loses her pillow and declares a tickle war, and has Marinette rolling around scream-giggling for mercy, when Anarka Couffaine enters the room looking worried – but not at the state of her boat.

“Marinette,” she says, sounding so unlike her normal self that everyone immediately stops what they’re doing. “Your mom’s here.” Sabine enters the room behind her, and Marinette’s blood runs cold. Her mother has never looked so serious, or so worried.

“Marinette,” she says, “I need you home now.”

Marinette doesn’t bother to argue.

 

* * *

 

It’s only a short walk from the boat to the bakery, but to Marinette it’s never felt longer. As soon as they’re through the door, she turns to her mother with questioning eyes. Her father isn’t there. The bakery is empty.

“Maman, what’s going on?”

Sabine looks like she might be sick. “Marinette… there’s been an accident.”

Marinette pales. “Papa?” she whispers, but to her relief, Sabine shakes her head. But Marinette feels sick when her mother continues.

“No… Aunt Vivienne and Uncle Miguel… their house caught fire…”

Marinette sinks to the floor in shock, and Sabine sinks down next to her, continuing to explain. The source of the fire is unknown, but by the time the fire department began to douse the flames, they were too late to quell the blaze – or save the inhabitants.

Her aunt and uncle are gone.

“Where’s Papa?” she eventually manages.

“He’s at the airport. He’s heading straight to Asturias to meet María. They’re going to the house to see if there’s… anything left.”

Marinette feels like she actually might throw up. María. María is an orphan. It’s horrible that Marinette’s aunt and uncle are gone, but María has just lost both her parents in one terrible accident.

 

* * *

 

Marinette doesn’t get to sleep until late that night, and wakes up at 12pm, running into the kitchen panicking about school – but her mother puts a hand on her shoulder and explains that she’s called the school and told them Marinette will be out of class for the next two weeks. “Your teacher knows what’s happened,” she adds softly, “but she’s going to tell the class it’s simply a family bereavement.”

Marinette nods, and Sabine sits down at the table. “It looks as though your class will also be getting a new student when you come back,” she says. Marinette squints.

“How do you know that?”

“Because María can’t stay in Scotland,” Sabine says sadly. “She’s coming to Paris to live with us.”

Marinette knows her mother isn’t sad about María staying with them – rather, she’s sad that María will have to give up her dream now that her parents are gone. Marinette can barely manage breakfast thinking about it.

María has dreamed of being in musicals since they were little. Whenever the Dupain-Chengs were in Asturias, or the Sugrue-Dupains were in Paris, María always had a new show to show Marinette, and at the end she’d always say, “I’m gonna be in that show one day. You can come and see me on the West End in London, I’ll send you tickets.”

María sank everything she had into living that dream.

And now that dream has turned to ash.

 

* * *

 

 

         María Sugrue-Dupain stares at the burnt-out lot where her house used to stand. She barely hears Uncle Tom behind her, talking to the chief inspector, or the other authority figures on the scene – fire department? Police? She’s not sure. All she can do is stare at the place where her bedroom used to be, and try to remember what it looked like before it turned to a pile of blackened timber. Uncle Tom puts his huge hand on her shoulder, making her jump a little.

“The inspector says we can… go in,” he says softly. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to…”

“No, I want to,” María hears herself say. She _has_ to. She needs to know if anything survived the fire – anything that will remind her of her parents. She easily steps over the yellow crime tape, and suddenly she’s crunching across the burnt remains of her childhood home.

There’s nothing but ash where her bedroom used to be. The same rings true for the dining room, the bathroom, and the kitchen. She looks up at Uncle Tom, whose expression tells her that the living room, the hallway and her parents’ bedroom also yield nothing. There’s still one more room to check, though.

The study.

María crunches over to the only room left to check and scans the ground for anything that isn’t charred detritus. At first the room seems to yield nothing, but at second glance –

At last! She catches a glimpse of white underneath what might have been her mother’s desk – bone white. María reaches down and pushes at the scorched oak until it crumbles, revealing a tooth.

Not just any tooth. The tooth is 20cm long and conical, with an S-shaped dent in it. Curiously, the dent has a straight vertical line inside it. It can only be the tooth her parents were studying, from the whale that had lived for an entire millennium. Which means something else might have survived too…

María finds the bejewelled silver S a few feet away, entirely undamaged by smoke or flames. Now that it’s free of the tooth, she realises it’s actually a hairclip. _What was a whale doing with a hairclip in its tooth?_ She touches one of the little amethysts set into it, and feels a sudden unexplainable coldness rush through her body. It’s unexplainable where it came from, especially considering the warm Spanish sunlight, and it’s gone as quickly as it came. María puts it to the back of her mind for the moment, and straightens up to tell Uncle Tom what she’s found, but abruptly stops cold.

There’s a man in the alley next to the firehouse.

And he’s staring straight at her.

María palms the clip and stares back. The man in dressed in a purple suit, and seems to be holding a walking cane. But it’s his choice of headgear that’s odd: a mask that covers his entire face and neck except his eyes and his mouth. His eyes are narrowed and his mouth is set in a straight line, and María can’t look away or say anything – until he suddenly steps back and vanishes into the shadows.

María glances down at her hand, tightly curled around the hairclip, and somehow knows it’s a good thing she hid it.

 

* * *

 

She doesn’t tell anyone at the crime scene – for that’s all it is now, a crime scene – about what she’s found. On the plane from Asturias to Paris, she tells Uncle Tom about the tooth, and explains she was afraid the scientists would take it away from her – the only reminder of her parents.

She keeps the hairclip a secret. Her encounter with the strange man tells her to – not literally, but she knows intuitively that it wasn’t by chance.

She knows he wasn’t there by accident. He knew what had happened. And he was looking for something – most likely the hairclip now stashed in her suitcase.

Whoever this man is, he had something to do with that fire. María knows that it was no accident. Her parents are… were meticulously careful not to leave fire hazards lying around. Their house didn’t _just_ _catch fire_.

Someone set fire to it.

And María is willing to bet her life that it was the man in the alley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other people are beginning to be affected by the odd 'singing virus'. What's causing it? And why is Hawkmoth such a prick?

**Author's Note:**

> Please, tell me what you think!!
> 
> Also the song, if you didn't know, is 'I'm Not That Girl' from Wicked. If you haven't seen Wicked, as a professional Musical Theatre performer I thoroughly recommend it.


End file.
